Fear and Loathing for Timmy Turner
by Rocky Samson
Summary: Timmy Turner and his college roommate take a trip to Las Vegas for a class assignment, as well as to escape their individual troubles. A dedicated crossover tribute to the book and film of similar name. Mature Content Warning! I know it's been a while, but the muses shall return to me soon for Part 2.
1. Blood Drops

**Chapter 01 – Blood Drops**

Timmy is an average kid...

That no one understands...

Mom and Dad and...bzzztzttz...always giving him commands...

The doom and gloom... up in his room...

Is broken instantly...

***whistles***

...cause in reality...

_"__He who makes a man of himself gets rid of the pain of being a toon..._"

-Dr. Bugs Bunny


	2. Gonna Sock At Ya Now

**Chapter 02 – Gonna Sock At Ya Now**

We were somewhere around Barstow, on the edge of the desert... when the drugs began to take hold...

...I remember saying something like, "I feel a bit lightheaded... maybe you should drive..."

...All of a sudden there was a terrible roar all around us, and the sky was full of what looked like huge heads, all swooping and laughing and _flapping _around the car. And a voice was screaming, "**Holy Jesus! What are these goddamn fairies!**"

Then it was quiet again. My roommate had taken his shirt off and was pouring beer on his chest to tan. Turning over he screeched out , "Did'you say something!"

"Nevermind... it's your turn to drive!"

I slammed on the brakes and pulled over his older brother's car. No point mentioning these fairies I thought... poor bastard will see them soon enough...

We were still pretty far from Vegas. Somehow, I thought transportation would be easier... they were gonna be hard miles but we'd have to break through them at this rate. Had to make it. Had to get to the Binion's Horseshoe... I rushed to the trunk to grab a drink. Maybe some booze might get my mind straight.

We had 4 bags of grass, 75 pellets of jujubes, 3 sheets of high power blotter acid, a salt shaker half full of cocaine, a whole galaxy of multicolored twizzlers, laughers, jawbreakers... plus a quart of tequila, quart of vodka, case of beer, pint of pure water, and 2 dozen pixie sticks... not that we needed it all for the trip, but once you get logged into a serious drug collection, the tendency is to- THERE IT IS _AGAIN! FLAPPING WINGS!_

Where was I? Oh yeah, we powered on through the desert miles and pressed on forward. Off to The Binion's Horseshoe Hotel for a school report. My roommate turned up the radio.

"...more than 100 G.I. Joe's killed from drug abuse, and in further news-_**BZZT**_-_Never liked being told who I gotta see, I like no commitment growing up around me..._"

My roommate began singing along with the radio in that screechy voice of his...

"**I'm **not **comin' in **ANYmoooree! Everything I **want **and _need _is **JUST OUTSIDE THIS **_doooorr!_"

Everything you want and need? Just wait until you get a load of those goddamn **fairies **flying about...

I never saw the hitchhiker until my roommate had stopped the car. "This sucker might have something! Let's give him a ride!" I tried to tell him no, but that scrawny old man was already running up to the car wearing brown bell bottoms, lugging a suitcase and excitedly yelling, "Like, **wow **man! _Haha,_ I never rode in a **cadillac **before!"

I looked him in the eyes and said, "Is that right? Well... who says you're gonna _get _ta!"

"We're your friends, man... we're not like the others, **seriously...**"

After that clumsy remark, I told him to shut his mouth before I get his brother on the phone. Looking back, the guy looked shocked and confused, but I gave him a toothy grin and insisted that he get in.

Next thing you knew, we were back on the road. The man sat in the back, his messy hair and baggy green shirt flapping in the wind. How long could we maintain, I wondered... how long before one of us starts going _totally fucking _**nuts **at this guy... What will he think then? This desert was the last known home of Aku's followers... would he make that grim connection when my roommate starts screaming about fairies and chickens flying around the car. If so... well... we'll just have to cut his head off and bury him somewhere, cause it goes without saying we can't _**turn him loose!**_ He'd report us _immediately _to some Austrian Law Enforcement Agency and the school will run us down like **dogs...**

...Jesus, did I just _say _that? Or just _think _it? Was I **talking?** _Could they hear me!_

"Um... _haha,_ like, I heard every word you said, man..." he said, but my roommate assured him I was simply admiring the shape of his head. I had no idea why... Maybe I should have a chat with this guy, I thought. Perhaps if I _explained _things... he'd rest easy..._er..._

"Okay, listen, there's something I think you should know... **CAN YOU HEAR ME!**" He nodded. "_Good!_" I joined him in the backseat. "I want you to have all the poop! This is an important, possibly life-changing assignment, full of overtones of subliminal references. I'm a student earning a doctorate in journalism... Hey! **Baldy!** This is important damnit, _pay attention to me!_"

I smacked my roommate on the back of the neck, but then he wailed violently and we lost control of the car for about a brief minute. The guy we picked up yelled "_**ZOINKS!**_" and almost looked like he was making a break out of the car, but I settled him down and stopped him. Our vibrations were getting nasty, but why? Was there no communication in this car? Had we dumbed down to the level of my _Dad_?

"Look, this guy at the wheel isn't just some sideshow attraction I found at the zoo, he's my roommate. A student in Law. Possibly Canadian, but that doesn't matter does it... Are you prejudiced?"

"Like, _no way man!_"

"Ah, I didn't think so... cause in spite of his origins, this man is very valuable to me... oh, shit, I forgot about the booze, you want some?"

"Nooo..."

"How about some H2O?"

"Wait, **what?**"

"Nevermind... alright, let's get the expository chapter. Twenty four hours ago...


	3. Sitting Downtown In A Railway Station

**Chapter 03 – Sitting Downtown In A Railway Station**

We were sitting in Frankie's Diner at Foster's Hotel for Imaginary Friends. In the patio section, of course, drinking lemonade with Madame Fosters cookies on the side. Hiding from the brutish realities of this foul year of our school semester... **Twenty Twenty**.

At which point, a small blue thing walked up with a telephone in a tray, "Is this the phone call you've been _**bugging **_me about, sir?"

"Uh, **no!** _Doy!_" Luckily then, my cell phone rang. "**This **is!"

"**But,** then, _why would you-?_"

"**Get out of here,** you _toothpaste_-looking small-fry!" my roommate bellowed at him. He screamed and tossed the phone in the air before he ran off. I answered the phone and got a hearty response from an old friend, Professor A.J. I passed on the details to Eddy: At the Binion's Horshoe Hotel in Vegas there's a special dedication derby going on, celebrating and holding the **Final Annual Wacky Races**. He advised us to take a road trip and use it as a story for my final paper. We're to meet up with other students while we're there, some short man. He'll have more details.

Eddy felt this was a perfect idea for the both of us. He insisted to join me for the trip on his own class assignment, but we'd need his older brother's car. "Figured you could use some legal advise from an _**up and coming **_**law student... **but we'll need some things... some drug-_type_-**stuff**-things... and whatever an 'Ay-kah-**pool**-_koh_' shirt is?" he suggested. I figured, why not? If anything's worth doing... it's worth having someone to pin it on if it doesn't get done.

After all, this is the American Dream, isn't it? Going on a weekend bender in lieu of a school assignment on your parents money. Besides, as I told Eddy, the Wacky Races were a legendary spectacle of disorganized auto-motives, we'd be fools not to ride this opportunity! Eddy even suggested, "As a law student, I advise you to rent a mean rocket-powered machine... how else do expect to cover this thing right!"

"Guess when we get there, what we don't know we'll make up. Pure Dimmsdale Journalism..." I responded. During all of this, I swore I heard that blue kid again getting hit by some doors.

Getting the drugs and the shirts had been no problem, but getting his older brother's car was another problem altogether. We had to take the subway to get to where his brother even lived, but if Eddy wasn't lying to me, it'd be worth the late night risk. We were delayed yet again on our way through the subway tunnels. Eddy got into a fight with some homeless guy saying "**Why are you in my house! Get out of my house!**" over and over again. I managed to pull him away before any more harm came to us.

When we got to the theme park, we snuck around back and could see the car, but we'd need a goddamn miracle to get it away from the park before Eddy's brother knew it was us... "_I wish we had a distraction right about now..._" I lamented.

We got lucky, however, as the screws on the Ferris wheel came off. It started to roll away when he came out of his trailer running and screaming at it. We hopped the fence then, and managed to drive out through the same fence. The wheel just kept rolling behind us. We'd need some funding for this trip however, so we reconvened at our dorm-room. I called my Dad.

"Look Dad, it's a **real **story! Not like the Ms. Dimmsdale pageant abuse story you keep shoving down my throat... So will you help me out...? Ah well, I'm sure if we were a rich family like the _Dinklebergs _you could afford it...Thanks Dad!"

Then, we smoked a couple of bowls and put on Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas... but _**our **_trip was to be different! It was to be a class assignment in everything right and true in the national character! A gross physical salute to the fantastic possibilities of demolition derby's in this country, but only for those with true grit...

...And we are _**chock full **_of that, man!"

"Damn right!" Eddy yelled from the front. I continued to chat with this man, "My roommate here understands that concept despite his Canadian heritage... but do you?" He nervously nodded and said he understood, but I could see in his eyes that he didn't... "He was lying to me..."

"_What did you just s-_" but before he could finish that sentence, Eddy began freaking out at the wheel and throwing his arms up, yelping. Stopping the car, he repeated over and over again, "**Jawbreakers! Jawbreakers!**"

After a minute, I understood and got him a jawbreaker, explaining to the man, "My roommate here has a blood-sugar condition: Angina Pectoris!"

"But, kid, that's a _**heart **_condi-"

"**BUT WE HAVE A CURE FOR IT!** Jawbreakers!" Handing one to Eddy, he began sucking on it immediately. I took one myself and fell back on the seat. You can't really lift your head up easy with a jawbreaker in your mouth.

Eddy turned to us and with a worried look on his face said.. "What the fuck is a hippie doing in our car?"

"_**A hippie!**_ Now **wait a minute **young man!"

"No! _**You **_wait a minute! We drive you for freakin' **20 miles **and not a single dime for the _lift!_ Do you realize what it takes to **be **in this car! Might as well tell you the _truth_ about where we're going..."

"Uh... Eddy, **dude,** calm down! He's a harmless hippie..."

"Now _**wait just a minute,**_ do you little **punks **even know who the _hell I __**am?**_"

"Oh, I think we **do **man, I think we do... Do you want to know where we're _**really **_headed? We're heading out to a little place called Nowhere, Nevada because we got a call from some farmers about _creepy _things happening in Nowhere... and we're going to investigate. Maybe run into some **dangerous criminals.** Maybe even an old friend of mine named _Di Lung_... and we probably won't get there till **dark**... so, what do you say **PAL?** _Up for a __**Mystery?**_"

At that moment, the old man muttered something that sounded like "_not again_" and he booked for the door. I called back out to him to come back but it was too late. He was already miles away and calling out to someone. His dead dog, I think... Man, I've never seen a man so _old _run so **fast**!

Except maybe TV's Adam West.

I told Eddy to shut the hell up and move over! I was sober enough to drive now for God's sake! Can you freaking believe he was chewing on the jawbreaker the **entire time **he said that! He burst into tears of laughter.

"DID YOU SEE THE **LOOK **ON HIS **FAAACE!** _**AAHAHAHHAHAHAHA! **_Eddy: 1, Hippie: 0!"

"Heheh, shut up Eddy. Now move over! We've got a report to do...!"

"Think he'll go to a cop?"

"I think he'll be too terrified their really **monsters **at this point..."

We sped off and rushed onward. My Dad's bank closed at 8 and if we couldn't make it before then we wouldn't be able to use his credit card and afford the suites. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Eddy trying to open the salt shaker.

"**EDDY! WAIT, What the hell are you-**"

"_Shut up,_ Timmy! I SAW the movie **TOO!** I'm just tightening it up," then he put the salt shaker down. Damn bastard got **me **too! Ah, damnit! Oh well, whatever... Now! According to my own recollection of the movie, this is the part where I got to do acid. **Coool!** I get to do Acid! _Sweet..._

Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, we took off in Eddy's brothers car making our way down to Las Vegas to get that report done. At this point though my head was feeling weary from what we just witnessed. Triggered some _**bad **_memori-

"Timmy! Get over it!"

"WHA-!"

"I'm your roommate, I can hear your narration! Or did Shaggy responding to it not tip you off in the beginning? But **come on,** man! _Seriously!_ '**Triggered Memories**' Tootie just _left_ you, you **dork!** It's not like... **well,** the point is, get over it already! Why do you think we're _on _this trip!"

"**OKAY,** OKAY! Will you knock it off! I mean, you just scared off a Hannah Barbara employee for pete's sake! You should be _nicer _to vets.."

"Whatever, just **drive **already, and pass me another **jawbreaker!**"

**Sigh. **Thirty minutes... it was going to be a _long _trip...


	4. She's A Lady

**Chapter 04 – She's A Lady**

We finally made it to the Binion's Horseshoe. It was more unbelievable than I could ever believe. The blue lights carried a sparkling glow to them... Going in, my nerves weren't much better. Jesus christ, it's hot in here! I had to rinse out my hat!

I suddenly felt my heart slink into my stomach when I got to the front desk... I could smell her vapors from here...

"Hello! Hi, and welcome to the Binion's Horseshoe! I am here as part of a reach-out program for Lower Valley Children. My name is Ms. Phugly. So, what the hell do you want and why do you keep staring at me?"

There was no way to explain the terror I felt... She looked like a freaking frog! No! I'm not kidding! It can't be the drugs! It can't be! Could it? Was I hallucinating! **MISS!**

"HEY! Come on! I don't have all day here! I've got a hot date later with all of my _beeaauutiful _friends~..."

"I'll take care of this..." Eddy finally stepped in. "We're here on a special assignment too, Gorgeous~, so why not help us out by getting our suite ready..." He chorted out, slamming the credit card on the counter.

"Wha-? _**Oooohhhhh~**_... You're _cuuuute..._ **BE RIGHT BACK!**"

She ran off, and to this day it felt as though the ground shook with each _step_. Eddy pulled me to my feet.

"What the **hell **is wrong with you! You've never seen an ugly girl before? You obviously never met May... Come on, go wait in the bar, you loser!" he chuckled at me.

Yeah... I should... Try to ignore this terrible drug... I could hear them talking as I stumbled my way to the bar. I dare not look back... I even had to look up on the internet just the right word for what I just saw while I was in the bar! The best I could find was "oblong". More like fucking Jesus!

But thinking of that front desk woman, was burned into my retina's! I couldn't stop thinking about it! And those red pigtails! AAUUGGHHH! SHE LOOKED JUST LIKE A FROG!

And that's when I turned around...

I was right in the middle of a fucking animal farm, and someone was giving booze to these creatures! I could see frogs, turtles, wallabees, cows... or, steer, I think? They were all around me... It wouldn't be long before they notice I'm human and tear me to shreds...

_'Sweet christ almighty...'_

Next thing I knew, Eddy showed up next to me.

"We got a message at the front desk from that short man you were talking about. Said Professor A.J. Gave him our room number so we could work together. You alright man? You're sweating like crazy..."

_"...how long til our room is ready?"_

"'Bout another hour..."

The next thing I knew, I was in my hotel room. Looking around, the place looked overturned, like a tornado had blown through the damn place.

"Jesus God Almighty! What the _hell_ happened? Weren't we just in the bar? Am I going crazy!"

"Damn **right **you are!" came my roommates voice from the front door. As it turns out, I was laying on the couch. "Hold on!" he muttered as he finished making an order from the Room Service guys. I wasn't ready to see any more people, so I wracked my head for memories. Even now, with this drug's impact, the bus boys might as well have been animals _too!_ I couldn't afford to look. Then I felt Eddy punching my arm.

"What are you, **nuts!** I leave you alone for 5 minutes and you go off about seeing animals and wishing time moved faster! I had to drag your ass away from the family with the adopted kid cause you were about to _tackle that kid!_"

"But... d-didn't you see the-!" I debated whether or not finishing my sentence would help in making me seem more sane.

"Yeah, I saw them! They're called **tourists!** _Hahahahaha!_ You need to **relax** or something..."

"But then... how did we get back here so fast?"

"**Fast?** Do you even realize how long it took me to drag your paranoid ass _all the way UP here!_"

I couldn't think... the television was on... a game of football should relax me. Some of the old pigskin, no worries... I ensured my roommate I was fine. "So... did you catch the look on that receptionist?"

"You mean that Phugly girl! **YEAH!** _HAHAHAHAHA!_ She look like something I once dissected for Science class! _**HAHAhahahaha!**_" He got a hearty laugh, so I knew I wasn't alone there... I could feel my head getting straight again. Then there was a knock on the door.

"If it's Hotel Security, I'm blaming _**you**_,man!" Eddy said, approaching the door slowly, clutching the chain in his pants... "Who is it?"

"Um... it's Arnold! The classmate for the school project?"

Eddy let him in, taking his hand out of his pocket. "Hey ya, buddy! The writer's over there..."

I turned around to face him as he came in. "Hi! I'm Arnold, I'm here for Photography class! Figured my pictures could help with your report and vice versa. So what do you say, feel like working together? "

_"YOU'RE NOT SHORT, MAN!"_

"Uhh...ummm... well, that _is-_"

"He meant to say 'Yes, we'd love to'..." Eddy said from the corner of the room. I knew bringing a law student would be a wise investment diplomatically... the game was still on.

"Oh, well... Great... Great! I'm, uh, I'm really looking forward to working with you, uh, Timmy was it? I'm sure we'll make a fantastic collaboration! If you want, I got some pictures of the Vehicle Check-in for the race! Aw, you should've _seen_ them! A saloon car, a chuggabug, a wooden car, a drag racer, a **tank!** A _**flying **_car! Oh, and a little pink corvette, along with so many others! Man, what a race it's gonna be!" I tried my best to pay attention to his words, but I couldn't stop the drug from making his head into a talking football... "Uuhh... Timmy? You haven't looked at the pictures I handed you..."

"Oh! It's... **the football game!** **Yeah!** Distracting! I'll look at it later Gerald!"

"Um, Arnold..."

"Right! Arnold..."

"...Ok, I guess I'll just... head back to my room now... I like your pink hat..."

"I like your blue one..." and then he was gone. All in all, I think I handled that pretty well.

"_**HAHahahaha!**_ You guys want to trade 'hats' over dinner? _HAAAHahaha! _Now, how much do you think we could get out of him for help on this report? I say $25 a photo!" Eddy bellowed from the other room.

"AAAHH Shut up and go to sleep! We've got a report to do tomorrow! Sheesh..." turning over on the couch, I had trouble sleeping... _I couldn't stop thinking about that damn receptionist..._


	5. The Yard Bird

**Chapter 05 – The Yard Bird**

The racers were ready at dawn, but the race wouldn't start until 9am or so. It gave me some time to kill. There was madness everywhere. All around me, people ranging all the way into their 70's. The Wacky Races attracts a very special breed... in some circles it's a far, far better event than the Piston Cup, the Rodger-Dodger Buggy Races, and the Japanese Speed Races all rolled into one. But now was the moment, my moment, to straighten up and get this stupid paper done.

Those of us who had been up all night were in no mood for coffee and donuts. Luckily, I hadn't been up all night, and they were some damn _gooood_ donuts. I placed in the bet Eddy asked me to make and proceeded to the student tent before the race started. All of us had gathered here today to capture this momentous occasion in racing history, many GPA's on the line. This was no time to fuck around...

I sat down at the bar and ordered a strong drink. There were a hell of a lot of us, but nobody I really knew or could make out. Not necessarily a bad thing, though. After last night, I was in lousy shape, and in that tent I wasn't able to distinguish gunfire from backfire.

Before I could get one sip in, someone managed to add a shot of their snot and sneezed in my damn brew. "Hey, sorry about that young guy, ha, hope that doesn't give it too much of a kick! You here for the races too? Cool hat, where'd you get it?" he blurted out.

"Internet..." I ordered another beer and tried to maintain a sunny disposition. Difficult when all your thoughts of the guy next to you is 'Kill the body, the head will die'. Luckily, you don't have to do much talking when people are more than willing to do it for you.

"Man, what a **day,** huh! Perfect for this kind of race, and what a race too! I'm just sad that, no matter where I went, for the life of me I could not find one single Honker Burger! NOT ONE! _HAHA!_ Man oh man, if it weren't for the race I'd be **out of here!** And I could use this story, too. Teachers weren't too fond of the last piece I worked on when I was about your age."

"You don't say..."

"Oh yeah! I once did a story about a Miss Dimmsdale Pageant who had mistreated one of their contestants! Can you believe that? Honk honk! The contestant ended up winning anyway. I swear, have you ever heard of anything like that in your life?"

"...Nope... can't say I have..."

We got a call shortly after that. The race was starting. "Welp, time to get this dipsy doodle desert derby on the road, huh? Honk honk! See you on the track!" Rushing on outside, I caught a cozy spot near the front line of the track. The racers were prepped, ready and anxious to begin. It was time to get this report underway. The announcer called out the race proceedings as everyone bolted off at the starting gun. Only one car didn't move, Number 00.

Then the driver used a cannon to propel himself ahead of the other racers. Underhanded tactics in a no hold's barred race. Would've sworn I was just hung over if I hadn't seen him fly off myself. I guess he likes starting things off with a bang.

By 10, they were spread out throughout the course. The announcer was keeping up as best as he could. It was no longer a race. Now, it was a Wacky Race. So I guess it was still a race. Trying to cover this race in any conventional sense, however, was absurd. The racers were changing places at an alarming rate, according to the announcer. There were ghosts and mobsters on the track. Some drivers had even resorted to carrying, pushing or even pulling their vehicles. You couldn't make heads or tails of first or last because they didn't keep to the track.

I decided to head back into the tent and get myself another beer when my photographer caught me. "Hey! Timmy, right? I got us a guy who could give us a lift out into the desert to capture the race up close! We should get some great shots this way!"

"Hey there buddy! Honk honk!"

The sand the race had kicked up had killed visibility. Somehow, that didn't stop us from driving straight into it and hoping to run into one of the racers. The only one we managed to find, however, was the Double 0. Poor bastard must've ran into a flat cause he kept filling his tires with air. Holding onto my mug for mercy, we continued bumping along the desert trying to see what we could get of the race. Arnold decided to use different lens combinations, but I had a feeling it wouldn't work...

That's when we heard it. First, a big pop. Then, a shotgun went off. Someone was out here, and they weren't playing friendly... Another shotgun, and it was close! I told the blue bastard to get us the hell out of here, but a truck had already pulled up.

"_**Where's the damn race!**_"

"_Eustace!_ Where are your manners? Hello boys! We were just wondering where the racing grounds were? Would you be alright to help us?"

They looked like ghosts that had stepped out of another time altogether, and for some reason, they're dog was freaking out. "Beats me, Miss! We're just students! Good hard-working students! Good non-drug-taking students... um, and I think the pits are back that way..."

"Oh my? I **told **you, Eustace, you _stubborn _mule you!"

"_Gaah!_ Stupid college kids!"

After they were gone, I figured no better opportunity to follow them so we can find our way back. "Guys, let's get back to the pits before we lose our bearings out here..."

Arnold felt differently. "We can't give up now! This race just _started!_ Come on, I'm sure if we stick through it til the end, we'll see some **amazing **things and you'll get to write a _fantastic _paper!" It was time, I felt, for an agonizing reappraisal of the whole scene.

"**Fuck that!** Optimistic _jackass..._"

I jumped out of the backseat. As Arnold shot off following the racers. I'd seen enough of the race to know that there was no way to make a coherent paper out of it. I was sure I had pointed those old folks in the right direction, so I followed their tire tracks until the pits were visible. I had dumped the beer or what remained of it in the back seat of the car, so there was only walking now. The heat battered down on me from the horizon as I made my way. Not much I wanted to think about at the time, but I couldn't help wondering: What now? What comes next?

That night, me and Eddy drove out to catch a Vegas attraction. One of the things you do whenever you're in Vegas is to catch any show you can afford to. You don't get second chances in this city, and one show is often enough. Total control now. Saturday night. March 14th. Two good old boys in a fire-apple red pimp mobile. Stoned. Coked. Twisted. Good people.

"Open the windows! Let in the Vegas atmosphere and feel the wind in your hair!" Eddy bellowed at me from the passenger seat.

"Have you found anything yet? If we're going to have fun, then let's just pick a show before we run out of options! Did you even come to help me with this report, or are you just along for the ride?" I echoed back at him.

"Of course I'm here to help! I'll even help right now! As a law student, I advise you to open the goddamn windows!" We tooled along the main drag, ever searching for an enticing ticket. "So did my car come through or what?"

"Number 05? Nah... no such luck."

"Goddamnit! Knew I should've bet on the damn Double 0! He looked the fastest, and... Fuck... Quick! This hotel looks promising! PULL OVER! _**PULL OVER!**_"

I did pull over, but not soon enough. Now, employees in fancy jackets and funny hats were shouting all around us. Bad noise was everywhere, and we were right in the middle of it.

"What the **hell **do you think you're _**doing!**_ _You can't park your car here!_ **Move it!**"

Smiling, all I could think to say was "But Raoul Duke did it?" Fortunately, Eddy was quicker to the tongue than I was.

"Of course we can't park here! It's a freaking sidewalk! What even made you think we were gonna park here?" He slipped the man a bill "Now get this car someplace it can be parked. We drove too far for too long to miss..." It was the first sign he saw. "La Vaca!"

The doormen didn't give us any more trouble after that. We made our way inside. _La Vaca_, eh? Why not? Seemed entertaining enough. I didn't mind Spanish music, and if it's older than dirt you know my roommate was interested. After all, this was Dino Spumoni's turf. Sylvester Calzone's. Monroe Yoder's. A venue attributing to some of the greatest artists of our time. Tartakovsky. Klasky. Csupó. Germain. Judge. Clearly, a high class refuge for geriatric veterans of over 25 years.

We approached the grand ballroom, eagerly awaiting a Vegas show, but they refused to let us in. We were too late, said a man in a wine-colored tuxedo; the house was already full. No seats left, at _any _price.

"Fuck seats!" blurted my roommate. "We're students working on an important school assignment and we demand entry for the sake of our paper!" No dice. They weren't willing to budge on the door, so my roommate took the man aside. I waited on the steps, hearing minor details about a special report he said he was doing on hotel conduct and lawsuits for his degree.

After a lot of bad noise, they finally let us in provided we would stand in the back and wouldn't smoke. Write quietly. Eddy was coked up, but I should be fine. The acid I took on the way here had long since worn off, and I wasn't about to hallucinate on grass. Confident, we walked in. Our first real Vegas show, and we got in free. The announcer boomed over the speakers: "Ladies and Gentlemen, The Desert Inn is proud to present the one, the only, the incomparable, _La Vaca!_"

"_Bienvenidos __señoras y señores! Es maravilloso aquí con todos ustedes, gente fabulosa! Oh-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo, mmmooo! Ahora vamos a jugar!__ Cantando! Cantando! Princesa de las hadas!_"

"**HOLY COW, SHE'S A FUCKING COW!**"


	6. Feed Your Head

**Chapter 06 – Feed Your Head**

Driving back down the strip at 70mph we couldn't help but laugh hysterically at what just happened. We had gone into a fucking time capsule! Not two seconds later we were being dragged out through the hotel lobby, Eddy by his arms, feet suspended off the ground and myself with someone on each limb; a laughing stock the entire way out. We had managed to have some of my hash pipe before La Vaca came to the stage. Stuffed it away just in time before they nabbed us.

Driving down South Las Vegas Blvd, Eddy shouted curses back at that Desert Inn, threatening lawsuits and all other kinds of insane garbage I would never understand. We turned left and found ourselves someplace a bit more inconspicuous for the likes of the two of us.

Bazooko Circus was the perfect venue. They'd never fuck with us here. Formerly the Circus Circus Hotel and Casino, it was bought out some few years ago, and was now this bright, flashing, colorfully loud place... My how times have changed...

"Timmy! You still got the water? I got some mescaline from my contact, Di Lung. Took it an hour ago before we left, but this crap isn't **fucking **working! That creep better not have fucking **burned **me, _I swear to God..._"

"What the _**hell **_are you doing taking **mescaline!** If we're not careful, you could seriously **kill **yourself on some of this shit!"

"_Big deal... _now do you have the damn PW or what!"

"Yeah, got it right here..."

I had forgotten to pack a rag to use, but fortunately, I managed to find a green rag in my pocket. Dipping it in the H2O, I began to inhale when I heard a voice cry out "Ahahaha! It tickles!" I looked around to see if it was Eddy, but I guess he thought it was me too as he said, "Really? Let me give it a try..."

Sigh. Pure Water... it makes you behave like some side character in an early 1940's Raggedy Ann film. Total loss of all basic structure and design. Blurred vision, mixed colors, numb outline. The mind recoils in horror, unable to communicate with the body's physical nature... which is interesting because you can actually watch yourself contorting in this terrible manner... but you can't control it.

You approach the turnstiles to the entrance and know that when you get there, you have to give the man $20 or he won't let you inside... but when you get there, everything goes wrong. Your feet no longer grasp the concept of solidity and they trip over into the turnstile. You grasp out for something to balance you while your vision blurs and focuses. Some angry Yiddish clown shoves you and you think: What's happening here? What's going on? You hear yourself mumbling... "...Christmas could be _every _day... **no fault of mine!** Where's Gary? Where... why yes, I'll follow da rules... _even _a fairy? Are there _even _fairies? Orders from the **Crimson Chin**..."

Water is the perfect drug for Vegas. Here, they love abstract work, watercolors that only add to the town's décor, and two good ole fashioned boys acting like drunk idiots. So they put us through the turnstiles and turned us loose inside...

Bazooko Circus is what the whole world would be doing on a Saturday night if the Delight Children had won the war. This was the Eighth Reich. The place was full of gambling tables and slot machines, but to look up, one giant circus tent housing a perpetual show. You could be gambling away, minding your own business when BAM! You look up and a group of guys calling themselves the Flying Edwardo Brothers are careening at high speeds back and forth and bouncing off of one another, and you hear your roommate yelling obscenities and crying lawsuit all the while. But no one seems to notice this. 24 hour spectacles a day and gambling all the while. I swear I saw Verne Troyer grabbing my leg as I made my way through the crowd, but it was probably still the H2O messing with my senses.

On the upper floors, however, everything changes. Rows and rallies of games and prizes that make Dimmsdale Fairs look like cheap Carnival knock-offs, which is what they were, but more-so. Rub the lamp. Get a rule-free wish of your choice. Knock down the gray corporate pixelated towers with a whiffle ball. Win a plushie of a pixie. Running around were a crazed colorful assortment of uncomfortable characters. A bald man with a beard even cried out about his own personal gimmick. "Step right up! Don't be shy! (Make me look good, Brock...) *_ahem_* Are you feeling small? Insignificant? Well look no further! Thanks to the Rusty Enhancer! Just take a seat inside this booth, and in seconds, you'll be shot with a growth ray that'll teleport you outside onto the streets of Vegas, only as tall as the buildings! Effects-only-last-for-two-minutes, Venture-Industries-does-not-hold-liability-for-any-damage-executed-by-paying-customers... so whaddaya say? Up to feeling like a God for once in your (_pathetic_) life!"

Good Lord in heaven... What if it worked? I could just imagine lying awake in bed when some drunken moron who looks like my Dad suddenly appears out the window 100 feet tall and smiling at me. No... we're closing the drapes tonight... A regular drug user can learn to cope with things like seeing your dead Grandmother crawling up your leg with a knife in her teeth... but no one should be asked to handle that trip... The notion that any moron with $5 can become a Fifty Foot walking Monstrosity for two minutes in downtown Las Vegas. No... this is not a town for psychedelic drugs... Reality itself is too unreal.

The water was starting to wear off and dry up. Structure was returning, the weed had dissolved into sobriety. Eddy wasn't doing well, though. He was cursing nearly everything around him... and then, all of a sudden... ZANG!

"Timmy... I'd hate to say this... _not really... _but I've gotta get **outta **here!"

"Well no DUH! You've been getting dizzy ever since we sat down at this Merry-Go-Round bar..."

"No! I mean out of town! Out of Vegas! I'm starting to **lose it,** man! Everywhere I look, _scams!_ _Scams everywhere! _I can't take much more, I'm gonna lose it! I need a sucker! You got any money?" I could see in his eyes, he was serious, on the edge of a frenzy. I had to calm him down. Distract his thoughts.

"Hey, you remember that Arnold guy?"

"Football head?"

"Looks like he's getting _**freaky **_with that waitress over there!"

"What does THAT have to do with ANYthing! I'm not _**kidding,**_ Timmy! If we don't scam one dime out of someone, I'll **kill **somebody!"

"Heh, shit, think he scammed her for a fuck? Haha..."

"This _isn't _funny!"

"You're right... look, we'll get back to the suite... smoke some grass, do whatever we have to do but just... keep cool, Eddy... stay calm... let's get moving..."

"Thank you..."

"Cigarette, sirs?" said the waitress as she came by, hair tied back by a pink bow. She looked no older than we were. Eddy took one and was clumsily trying to form a sentence as the cigarette shook in his mouth.

"Say, uh... (_wow, hehe, you must be related to Ed...)...*ahem* _you, uh... you wouldn't... didn't happen to, uh... heh, did that football head pay you to screw him?"

"Footbal he-**ARNOLD'S HERE? **_I-I-I-I m-mean,_ I have **no idea **what you're _t-talking _about, sir! What _**football head?**_ I didn't see any _**football head? **_Did you see a _**football head?**_ Cause if you did you **have **to tell me what hotel he's staying in, hahahaha... and, uh, and besides, _Arnold would NEVER-_ I mean, I'd _**NEVER **_have to pay for sex, you **bastard,** but I'll make **YOU **pay for _something..._" She said, gripping his shirt collar and clenching her fist. We were into such deep shit, if we were caught here, it would be the end for us, so I quickly dissuaded the situation.

"**He's an idiot!** And he's been drinking! He didn't mean what he said, he just... says stupid things sometimes! There was a guy named Arnold at the race, though?"

"**ARNOLD? **I mean, yeah, great, that's nice and all but you better take care of your friend here, _**bucko... **_now **MOVE IT!**" She stormed past us shoving me aside, then she hid behind a trash can and murmured to herself for several minutes. We got lucky this time.

Turning to Eddy, I had to get him out of there. Helping him out of his seat we moved along but he wouldn't step off of the Merry-Go-Round. "I've seen this before! The floor's gonna eat me!" Around and around it went, but he didn't budge from the edge. Finally, I got fed up and took out a quarter. I chucked it on the ground in front of him. He dove but miscalculated the motion of the bar and over shot it. Picking up the quarter, I got him off the floor and we proceeded to walk out as non-chalantly as possible. Eddy was jabbering, stammering as he tried to find his feet.

"DID YOU **SEE **THAT? Some poor sap lost a quarter! _Where is it?_ Maybe it rolled away!"

I caught him by the arm, though. "NO, you bastard! That's just what they want! To lure us in with promises of candy and nickles and dimes. _To hell with that monarch,_ we must get back to our hotel room! So move it, damn you!"

We were heckled further on the way to the exit, but I told them I had a sick man with me on the verge of throwing up. People backed away pretty quickly at that. When we were more or less in the clear, Eddy searched through his pockets for the keys.

"You drive... I think something's wrong with me..." he said, falling back as his eyes glued to another attraction, this time one peddling Canadian Squirt Guns.

We had finally gotten back to the hotel, but the key wouldn't open the door. Eddy fell to his knees and started to panic. "They're closing in on us, I can feel it! They changed the lock and now they've got us!"

I banged on the door but to no avail. "Goddamnit! Of all the fucking crap, and now this! I wish the damn door would open!" I pounded on it a few more times while Eddy slid the card key over and over again. But then it buzzed green, and we both fell over as it swung open. Eddy demanded I bolt everything to be on the safe side.

Composing ourselves, I sat back down at the table when I noticed a key...  
"What's this key for?"

"That? That's Arnold's key... thought it might be handy to hold onto..."

"What for?"

"What for? So we can go upstairs and blast the **crap **out of him with this fire hose I found downstairs! It's genius!"

"I think you should just leave that poor bastard alone..." situating myself at the table, I loaded a bowl and tried to ease down. It had been one hell of a day...

"You don't GET it, DO you? That prick got a hold of _**my woman, man!**_"

"Now you're just quoting... but who knows, maybe he butt-fucked her... Would ya like that, Eddy? If he **butt-fucked **her?"

"No! I'm serious!" Eddy sat across from me brandishing a large knife. I nearly would've jumped out of my seat if it hadn't been glued down. "He got my girl! He got... My girl! I was-! Sigh..."

"Where'd the knife come from?"

"_Nevermind that... _I just brought it along in case we needed to cut some jawbreakers..."

He started whacking away at the food on the table, cutting up the sandwiches into mince and slicing the fruit into odd shapes with each swing.

"GAAARRRGGHH, now he HAS her, Timmy!"

I remembered the girl. We'd had a problem with her on the elevator a few hours earlier: my roommate had made a fool of himself...

She had blonde hair in two pigtails, and was the only other person in the elevator wearing pink besides me. She had some friends, and walking in me and Arnold shared glances as I turned away.

"Hey little guy, are you one of the racers?" she'd asked. "Which team are you in?"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING..." turning around and seeing her, he melted. She was much taller than he was. "..._little_... *Ahem* Yeah, not to brag or anything, but I'm one of the **lead racers!** Why do you want to know, _good-lookin'?_"

She giggled, "You remind me of my little brother. We're doing a report for our college course and we'd love it if we could use you for it!"

"Sure thing, what's your name?"

"DeeDee."

"...as in... Double D...?"

"Excuse me, is that supposed to be a joke about my-"

"**No!** No! I... I knew another... 'DeeDee' coincidentally, _heheh_, small world..."

"So, uh... what do you drive?"

Ah crap, I thought. Here it comes. An inevitable barrage of jabbering from one of the most vain people I've ever shared a room with.

"Moi? I only drive the prestigious... uh... the, uh..."

"Number 05!" I had chuckled out to give him some aid.

"The Bird?" she'd asked, interested.

"The same!" I nodded

"Wow, what's it like being out there?"

He puffed out his chest and threw back his shoulders. "Oh, it gets pretty crazy, but for someone like me, I'm just an all-natural-"

Someone had cut his statement off with a murmur, but he and I had heard plenty well what he said. I sunk up against the wall. Things were about to get unpleasant...

"'_Dork_'... Is that what you called me? Excuse me, Miss, I think that there's a loud-mouthed asshole here who needs to learn a lesson, hm?" Then from out of his pocket he had pulled a switchblade. Where he got the damn thing I'll never know. Pointing it at the people in the back of the elevator, he slowly moved from one to the other.

"So who wants a piece of this... HM? You? _You?_ 'Scuse me, my lady... What about you...?" He had gotten to Arnold who was looking nervously at the blade. He started to stammer but Eddy started to thrust fake stabs at him. "I learned this from a cartoon I saw... HA-_HAH!_ _**HAAAH!**_ HA-_**HAAAH!**_ You _SCARED_, Arnie?"

I eyed the elevator meter as it counted up to our room. Two stops. No one moved. Finally, our stop came. "Oh, here's us! Come on!" I grabbed Eddy by his hairs and pulled him out of the elevator before it had shut on him. We ran wildly down the hall.

"Shut the hell up and get inside! They'll be calling the cops on your ass for that stunt!" I said. I managed to beat him to the room. He was laughing outside as he knocked on the door.

"Come on! Let me in!"

"Put the blade away first!"

"Fine! Fine! _Spoilsport... _It's gone, it's in my pocket now open up!"

I let him in. He bolted down everything and sat against the door listening for noise. He laughed some more. "Did you see the look in Arnold's eyes? HAHAHAHA! What a wuss! Hehehe... sigh... ssshhh... it's serious now... that girl, Tim... that girl understood... she fell in love with me, Timmy... eye contact, Timmy...SH! _Wait_... nothing..."

Now, many hours later, he was convinced that Arnold had picked her up on the rebound after his little stunt, and was dead set on making him pay for it. "Let's go upstairs... cut his **fucking** _**dick off!**_" he said slamming the knife down again. "I'll take the punishment, I swear!"

"Look, Eddy... I think you should just let it go and leave that football headed fuck alone..." taking hits to calm down wasn't so easy with a crazed out roommate waving a rather large hunting knife in your eyes. In an almost pathetic way, he muttered to me, "You didn't put her up to it, did you? You two didn't make a deal behind my back to make me remember, did you? Hmmm? Well... did you?"

"Look, dude... put that fucking knife away and **get straight.** Take a shower... take a break... do whatever you have to do. I need to go move the car. I'll be back in half an hour..." I backed away from him slowly as I made towards the door. One of the things you learn when dealing with people who've gone through as much shit as Eddy has is that everything means business. You see, you can turn your back on a person, but never turn your back on a toon, especially one that's waving a razor sharp knife in your eyes...


	7. Youngblood

**Chapter 07 – Youngblood**

What was I doing out here?

What was the meaning of this trip?

Was I simply just roaming around on a drug bender of some kind... or had I truly come out to Las Vegas of all places to do some homework? The elevator dinged. I stepped out looking around on the casino floors. The car was parked. Just killing time now.

Who are these people? These _faces?_ Where do they come from? They look like caricatures of Middle American townspeople all stricken with jaundice, and sweet **Jesus,** there were a hell of a lot of them at four-thirty on a Sunday morning... Still humping the American Dream... that vision of hitting the jackpot and winning the funds to return to stardom; to relevancy. The Big Winner in the last minute pre-dawn chaos of a stale Vegas casino emerging from mere nostalgia.

Why not? Give it a go. Maybe bring home something for my parents to notice. Two dollars is all it takes to turn it all around.

Nope. Just another two bucks down the drain... eh! Big deal! It was only two dollars, hehehe...

By the time I got back, the door had been blocked from the inside. I shoved my way in and saw the place was entirely turned over. My roommate was in the bathtub floating in powdery water, jawbreakers floating with him. The radio was blasting some sort of death metal, the words "Awaken! Awaken!" were constantly being repeated. I turned it off and pulled it away from Eddy. He had his eyes closed and was clamping down his ears. I wasn't even sure if he had noticed me yet.

Finally he looked over when he noticed a shift in the vibrations, but he didn't say anything. Then I noticed the chewed-up white paper...

"_Oh God... _did you eat the rest of the acid?"

"Damn right... t-turn it on..."

"Turn _what _on?"

"The radio! **The CD!** I bought it in the gift shop! Last track!"

I picked up the CD. "'They Might Be Giants'? Why do you want to listen to _these guys?_"

"Just shut the fuck up and put it in the CD player! Mind your own damn business!"

"Do you have any **idea **of half the crap you pulled? They're gonna come looking for you after this!"

"_I'll welcome it... _now turn that music on..." he still had the knife in his hands. Here he was. My roommate. Wearing an old yellow shirt with a red stripe, jeans and all soaking in the tub, head full of acid and a knife in his hands. He was ready.

"Just... one more favor, man... just one more favor... give me a few hours. One or two at least, before tomorrow. God knows what I'm gonna have to deal with..."

"Yeah... yeah, sure... I'll give you all the time you need... just play the CD..."

I turned it on and started to back out of the bathroom. I left the radio far away from him before shutting the door. The bathroom had become a whirlpool. Water splashed everywhere, markings of hats in shaving cream, and the sound from the song vibrated through the walls. I tried shutting into a comfortable position, but not seconds later he was yelling from the bathroom crying for help.

I ran back into the bathroom thinking he had gutted himself open with the knife. Instead, he was reaching over for the radio with a soggy jawbreaker. I smacked the jawbreaker away from him and moved the radio out of reach. He continued to cry out:

"**PLAY IT AGAIN! PLAY IT AGAIN! **Go back and play it again! _Give me the radio!_"

I remembered the song. We had heard it on the drive over here, so I knew what was getting to him... the peak had come and gone. He had started to get out of the tub when I grabbed the nearest thing I could find. Turned out is was the shower curtain rod. Holding it out like a lance I kept Eddy at bay in the tub. He looked up at me.

"Listen... just play the end of the song... and... and when it _finishes... _throw the radio into the tub with me... got it?"

I stared back in shock. I didn't know what to make of it. "Are you out of your mind? Any given day I'd gladly stick you in the ass with a cattle prod, but this radio will fucking **kill you! **I'm not even kidding! Blasted right through the wall! And worst of all, they'll make **ME **explain it! Get the _facts _of what we were _**up to!**_ The hell am I supposed to do then?"

"You could bitch to them the way your bitching to me, _hahaha, _now shut the hell up and help me out, or so help me Timmy, _doon't make me uuuse thiis..._" He brandished the knife and held it close. He started to get out again, but I told him I'd plunge this metal into his throat. Knowing no other alternative, I thought for a moment and set the pole down.

"Alright... I can see where you're going... let me just make sure I have it straight. You want me to throw the radio into the tub with you when the song ends?"

"Yeah... thanks Tim... I was beginning to think... I was gonna have to get... Ed to do it..."

"Eddy, Ed's not here..." but he had sunk down into the water before he had heard me. I could hear him muttering something about seeing Double D again as he sunk. Using this moment of blindness, I snagged the soggiest jawbreaker I could find, casually holding it to my side.

"Are you ready? Ok..." Forwarding the CD player, the song began to play out it's last verse. Eddy started frantically tossing around. Calming him down, he demanded I blast it. Volume nearing max, he sunk once more as I counted down the moment, the song ending in the background and Eddy singing along with it...

"NOT _**COMIIING **_IN... _NO, NO, NO... _**NOOOO **_**MOOORREE...**_"

Finishing the count and the song, I chucked the Jawbreaker at his head. He had flailed about on contact and couldn't make heads or tails of what was happening. I yanked the cord out of the socket and shut the door running out of there. He was jabbering from the bathroom but was calming down nonetheless. Suddenly, a pink Mace can. I can't recall who packed it, but it was serendipity... and none too soon as Eddy kicked the door open. He lobbed one of the chairs at me, but it missed badly.

"**Mace! **Mace, motherfucker! You want this? Ya like Bear Mace, brah?"

"_You buck-toothed pink hatted bastard... you WOULD do that, wouldn't you!_"

"Why the hell not... you just tried to kill yourself and now your gunning for me... what I should do is CALL THE DAMN COPS!"

"The COPS! Jesus, are you upset..." he fell over then, rendering him mostly harmless. I held the can outward nonetheless. "You'd get expelled for sure if you called the cops..."

"Listen you midget bastard... I'm not going to sleep with you wandering around, psyched out on LSD and constantly threatening to slice me up with that fucking knife!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! The knife was for the jawbreakers, I **told **you that..." he said as he tossed the knife aside.

"Look... eat some jujubes. Slice up some jawbreakers. Smoke some grass. Shit, dude, do whatever you have to to calm down..." he couldn't stop laughing at this point. "I need to sleep... I need to write that report and sleep... **GET UP, YOU SONUVABITCH!** **UP, DAMN YOU! **_**UP!**_"

He took a minute to breathe in before responding. "Oh... right... you've got that... right, that paper... shit, man, that blows... heheh, ok then... ok then, I'll uh... um... don't let me keep you up..."

I guided him back to the bathroom. I'm not sure what this much acid could do to a person. I'd never done it before two days ago, but there was nothing left in the bathroom that could seriously hurt him, and I knew he'd be too whacked out of his mind to let roam for now...

Sitting back down on the couch, the room was quiet again. Grabbing the nearest piece, I took a hit, tossed the mace can onto one of the beds and slunk back into my seat.

Ignore the nightmare in the bathroom. Just another refugee from the Renaissance Age of Animation... my roommate has never been able to accept the notion, often espoused by former toon celebrities, that you can do lot better without kids than with them, and neither have I for that matter...

I thought back to last week, to the nightclub I had taken Tootie to. The place reminded me of something out of The Matrix. I kept thinking about how much I wish I could go back there again, murmuring it over and over. It was after midnight, and the place was jumping to Chip Skylark. We were sitting in the back by the corner, and there I was...

Wait a minute... there I am! I can see myself exactly where I was sitting! Did the acid dissolve into my leg? Either way, I was... _clearly_ just another pothead, going through the motions and enjoying the company. Seriously, I'm getting a serious visual on a clone or something... then I felt a tap on the shoulder.

"_Hiiiiiiii Tiiiimmmmyyyyy, teeellllllllll Edddyyyy IIII fiiiniiished maaakiiing thaaat speeeciaaal paaapeeerrr heee waaanteed meee tooo maaake..._"

"Ed... why are you talking like that?"

"I saw it in a movie once! **Ha **ha **ha **ha! Could you give this to Eddy when you see him, good chum? THANKS TIMMY! Oh, excuse me Timmy, but I see you are over there! _Heeeeeeyyyyy Tiiiimmmyyyyy!_"

"Ed... why are you talking like that?" I heard as I blended into the crowd. I had to seek out answers, so I went to the restroom to seclude myself. I knew that Ed had been Eddy's source for a long time, something even Ed didn't know, but I'd never heard of him peddling acid. I figured I'd get rid of it before Eddy could do more damage to himself, but pulling it out I had spilled it on the bottom of my shirt.

"What's the trouble?" I looked up to see a pair of braces I hadn't seen in a long while. It was Chester... I didn't even know he was at this party. "Timmy?"

"Chester! It's nothing! All this stuff on my shirt, it's just... it's just LSD..." I said nervously. Chester was one of my oldest friends, but to have him catch me like this I'd figured I'd be honest with the guy. Apparently, honesty gets me a friend on his knees as he began to lick the acid off of my shirt. I couldn't move, I wasn't sure what to make of the situation. Then I heard a voice...

"Timmy! Are you in there? You said you were going to the bathroom, but you never said which one and I-"

She walked in and instantly fixed her eyes on us, Chester licking away as I tried to pull him off. The look in her eyes was heart-wrenching... on the verge of tears, Tootie turned and ran away. I knocked Chester off as I later learned he had been slipped ecstasy and was curious about LCD, but there was no way to catch up with her. Then I remembered something else about that night... it was the night Tootie left me. We had gotten into an argument later on and I wasn't sure what she was talking about then... but now...

I opened my eyes. I was in the hotel room again. A dream? A drug addled hallucination through memory lane? _Perhaps,_ a reflection on what had actually happened that night... a realization... through the purple frames I could tell... her life was ruined forever. Always thinking that just behind some narrow door in all her favorite hangouts, future boyfriends are getting incredible kicks from things she'll never know...

I could hear Eddy crying in the bathroom now. I knew damn well why. Today marks the six-year anniversary of Double D's death... We had all been in high school together, meeting each other for the first time then... I got to know the Ed's better over the following four years. Over time, we became very close. I remember Double D as always being the voice of reason in the group. Intelligent, close friend to A.J., and just a good human being sporting a black beanie. Never would've hurt a soul... not even the driver who had hit him... it had been our Senior year...

Strange memories on this nervous night in Las Vegas. Has it really been six years? Thirteen? It feels like a lifetime... the kind of peak that never comes again. Nickelodeon in the late 90's was a very special time and place to be a part of... but no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time and the world. Whatever it meant...

There were toons in any direction, at any hour... you could splat gak anywhere... There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was _right,_ that kids were winning...

And that, I think, was the handle... that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Grown-Up. Not in any mean or mature sense; we didn't need that. Our energy would simply _prevail_. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave...

So now, less than ten years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Burbank, CA... and with the right kind of eyes you can almost _see_ the Nicktoons Studio... that place where the wave finally broke and rolled back.


	8. That Ain't The Way To Have Fun, Son

**Chapter 08 – That Ain't The Way To Have Fun, Son**

I woke to the call of "Room Service!" Then the voices continued to speak...

"Dude, come on, this is so lame!"

"I know, dude, I know. But you heard what Benson said. If we wanted to come on the Vegas trip we were gonna have to earn our stay."

"But as bus boys? Come on, man! This job blows! Let's just **say **we cleaned the room and go play some Strong Johns."

"No, Rigby, we've gotta do this..."

"You're just saying that because you KNOW I'll throw you down just like I did this morning..."

"Ugghh... I told you! I was tired from the long drive!"

"Face it, Mordecai. You can't handle these skih-zills!"

"Stop it, dude! Now look! Every time we slack off we get into bigger trouble! We're gonna do this right this time so Benson can get off our backs... and after we're DONE we'll SEE who's gonna be throwing who down tonight, Rigby..."

"Ugghh, don't say it like that!"

"Whatever, dude, now come on, let's clean this room..."

"..."

"..."

"So, you wanna play some Strong Johns?"

Then... I felt something in my hand... a handle... and a trigger...

"Augh... it smells like Muscle Man's bathroom..."

"_RIGBY! DUDE! __**IS THAT A FREAKING DEAD BODY?**_"

"_OH MY GOODDD!"_

I jumped up before this got any weirder. Blue jays and racoons... Dear Lord, not now! The mind can't recuperate nightmares like last night, so it substitutes for it's own reality... The gun felt heavy in my hand.

"Holy **CRAP**, _IT'S A ZOMBIE!_"

"No, dude, it's the hotel guest."

"Oh... Holy **CRAP**, _HE'S GOT A GUN!_"

"_HOLY CRAP, HE REALLY DOES HAVE A GUN!_"

"**WAIT!**" I pleaded, but as they motioned for the door, I pointed the gun at them. They stopped, dropped to their knees, held their hands up and pleaded for dear life.

"Look man, we won't tell anyone, we swear! We don't want to die!"

"_**CLEANING THIS ROOM WAS YOUR IDEA!**_"

I thought I needed to get this situation under control. Simple misunderstanding... "RELAX! Just take it easy! It's NOT mine, fellas! Just... just get out of here, and don't say anything to anyone! It isn't mine, man! It isn't mine!"

"We won't!" said the Blue Jay, "We won't! Let's go Rigby!"

"_**I DON'T WANNA DIE!**_"

"**RIGBY!**"

"Oh, yeah, coming..."

I locked the door behind them. The decision to flee came suddenly... no, wait, no... No, the decision to _pee_ came suddenly... or maybe not... maybe I'd been holding it all along, subconsciously waiting until I was in the clear. The animals were a factor, I think, because attention was no doubt drawing upon me from all angles. I knew I had to get out... the sheer damage we'd done had been more than enough for that... but now it was imperative. Our hotel tab had been running somewhere around $218 an hour... for 18 consecutive hours. Incredible. How did it all happen? I put the gun away, wondering where the hell Eddy nabbed a fucking gun!

Thinking of Eddy, I noticed he wasn't in the bathroom. That rotten roommate of mine was gone! He must've made me a patsy!

Panic. It crept up my spine like the first rising waves of a Crocker outburst... All these horrible realities began to dawn on me... Here I was. Alone in Las Vegas. Completely twisted on drugs. No cash. No story for the final, and on top of everything else... a gigantic godamn hotel room to clean...

I didn't even remember who'd won the race... perhaps Number 05?

How would TV's Adam West handle this situation?

Alright... stay calm... stay calm... down the elevator... through the lobby... I can do this... stay calm... read the paper... try and catch up to the race... you might just be able to write that report yet... surely, it's in the papers.

**MYSTERY MACHINE FOUND ERUPTS IN MYSTERY**

At 10:49pm last night, a large vehicle was found ditched on the side of the road. The discovery was made by a local farming couple, who had been awoken by their dog at the noise of gunfire coming from outside their home. The Nowhere Police Department was immediately dispatched to investigate the violence, but upon arrival found no traces of any individuals within the vehicle.

There had been signs of violence as investigative reports recovered blood and other liquid samples from the vehicles interior. The entire interior of the vehicle was soaking with what seemed to be water. When asked of what had occurred, this is what the farmer had to say.

"What's your offer!"

But at that point, the Misses stepped in.

"We had just been asleep up in our bedroom when we heard this terrible, dreadful, awful sound! Right Eustace?"

"I heard nothing! I was sleeping just fine until that stupid dog woke me up!"

"_Eustace!_"

I won't comment on what had occurred after that, but it startled the already frightened dog the Misses was holding. After setting up a perimeter, Nowhere Police had uncovered more evidence not an hour later. Three middle-aged individuals were discovered at the scene in very critical condition. A woman, who has been identified as Daphne Blake, was discovered in the trunk of the farmer's pickup truck. Her body had been soaked in water. Police say that somehow the victim had died from drowning. When we asked the farmer if he had any relation to the woman, he made no comment. Well... actually, he did... a lot... mostly about the damage to his truck with words we aren't disclosed to repeat here.

After searching the house, another victim was discovered sitting in the basement corner, just as drenched as Daphne Blake had been. She had been clutching a vintage record player, and upon further inspection, was discovered to have bled out her ears. The coroner's report would later uncover that her entire ear drum had been ruptured beyond repair. The victim was identified as Velma Dinkley.

When nothing was left to inspect inside the house, the officers felt it best to investigate elsewhere. Upon that time, Nowhere County Deputy Nazz had located yet another victim 5 miles beyond the road from the farm. When police arrived on the scene, it was revealed to be the remains of a man named Fred Jones, Jr. The body was found clutching a shotgun and had been significantly damaged, millions of bite marks had whittled down into the muscle. Police suspect he had been attacked by a swarm of some sort but nothing has yet to be uncovered. Later, a small piece of paper was discovered upon the man's person. It was an advertisement for a job posting regarding the recently stolen slab of King Ramses from the Nowhere Museum.

Several investigations have been held around the area since, but the stolen artifact has yet to be recovered. Local citizens also commented that a fourth individual by the name of Norville Rogers had been traveling with them along with a Great Dane. Police have put out a search for Mr. Rogers, and has advised citizens to be on the lookout for a 6' 2" caucasian individual with dusty blonde hair, black eyes, a large green shirt and brown bell bottoms. Consider him dangerous and take caution, he may have a dog with him. Do not approach and notify the authorities.

What could've occurred, this Boy Reporter cannot say. All we do know for certain... is that Mystery Inc. has closed the book on their last mystery, and the Nowhere Police Department have only began theirs. Coming to you here, from "Venture News".

-Deanie V.

…...Just a fluke. Pay no mind. But compared to that, my crimes have been WAY more insignificant. Yeah... that's it. You haven't wronged anyone. You're a reasonably respectable citizen. Multiple felon, perhaps... but certainly not **dangerous**.

I decided to skim over a few articles, particular one regarding the _La Vaca_ performance. Apparently, she did a lovely rendition of "Diez Centavos un Vaso", but nothing about the insanity me and my roommate had caused. I breathed a sigh of relief. I was not news worthy.

I searched for an article on the race. Lord help me, I couldn't find the damn thing. My valet finally pulled up. I had already stowed away most of our materials in the trunk last night. Now it was only a matter of slipping the noose. Had to get out. Take the paper and worry about your final later. Now was the time to get the hell out of Dodge.

"MR. TURNER! MR. TURNER!"

Oh shit! The game was up... They had me.

"Many fine papers have been written in prison..."

"Whaaaaaat?"

I turned to the old geezer. "Nothing... yes, what is it!"

"Hatcha! I don't have **TIME **for this! I have shop to upkeep and manager called out _FAVOR_! You have a letter from the front desk addressed from Hillwood College. Here you go."

"Th...thank you... alright, I'll be on my way th-"

"One _more _thing! You have another letter from the front desk, this one addressed from Dimmsdale. Here you go."

I took the letters and looked over them. No time to read now, had to worry about that later. Shift into drive, and-

"One _more _thing! The hotel got a call from your parents. They say their letter is very important! You must read immediately."

"Oh..." I fumbled with the envelope in my hand. Why do they make these things so damn hard to open! The old shopkeeper never took his eyes off me for a second. Finally, I got it open:

DEAR TIMMY,

YOUR MOM AND I HAVE DECIDED TO TAKE A THIRD HONEYMOON OVER THIS WEEKEND, AND TO PAY FOR IT, WE HAD TO CUT YOU OFF. SORRY FOR THE SHORT NOTICE, WE KNEW YOU'D UNDERSTAND, ESPECIALLY SINCE WE NOTICED A GOOD CHUNK OF MONEY WAS ALREADY TAKEN OUT FOR CASH FOR SOME REASON. NOW WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT DRUGS? THAT AIN'T THE WAY TO HAVE FUN, SON. HEY! I SAID THE CHAPTER TITLE! WELL, ANYWAY, HAVE A GREAT TRIP TO VEGAS, SON! BRING ME BACK A HAT!

LOVE, DAD

"NOOO!"

"DAAAHH! DON'T DO THAT! Reading all day long and then screaming out of nowhere!" The geezer hit me with his two fingers. I've gotta credit him. It hurt.

"Sorry! Just... really bad news... I've got to go."

"Ah, I understand..."

I revved up the engine.

"One _more _thing! When will Mister Eddy be awake?"

"What? What are you talking about?"

"The hotel manager, Mr. Klimer, would like to meet him. Nothing unusual. Just chat and hand shake. He respects students studying law."

"Oh, well... of course! But if I were you, I'd wait until Eddy's had his breakfast because he's a very crude man... **IS THAT AN ONI?**"

I damn near got him with that one, but he nabbed the car before I got far enough.

"**_ONE MORE THING!_** Eddy will be available then? Ok, good, because we saw his name on one of the letters and became confused."

"Look... the letter is a mistake. We have friends back home with the same name, and they must've gotten confused when writing it, ok? Now I've got to **_GO!_** I've got to get to the race..."

"Ah, very well, carry on..."

"Thank y-"

"One _more_ thing! The race is over."

"N...N-Not for me!"

I tried to skid off, but he caught me again.

"One **_more_** thing!"

"**_WHAT?_**"

"The damage to the hotel room will cost **$3,937.78**. You have a _nice _day..."


	9. Can This Really Be The End?

**Chapter 09 – Can This Really Be The End?**

Jesus! Bad waves of paranoia... madness! Fear and Bankruptcy...

Get out! The feds were closing in... I could smell the ugly brutes... do me one last favor Lord... let me get the **fuck **back to Dimmsdale! Let me get rid of Eddy's brother's car in one piece and out of this fucking desert!

But I knew better, Lord... I saw the damn movie! Gotta lay low. Gotta pull into the next bar I see and just blow off the heat from this mess. Figure my way out and go home if I need to... After all, there's nothing wrong with a little coffee and relaxation.

This place was exactly what I needed. Calm. Quiet. Bob Dylan playing on the jukebox, and pancakes! It was good to get some of the stress off of my mind, and no better place was this. When the waitress brought me my coffee I felt even more comforted by the unique color of the bars dishes; pink mugs and green saucers. Compliments my hat.

I was finally calming down... looking out the window I saw a plane take off. Who was on it, I wouldn't know. Maybe Arnold took an early trip back after what we put him through... Maybe that bastard, Eddy, was coasting his way to freedom while I was stuck out in the belly of this underworld. No. Gotta get straight. Gotta figure out my next move.

Luckily, time was on my side... and no sooner could such an experience have deviated into a nightmare when I heard the record scratch to a halt. Someone was changing the tracks...

"Augh! **This music is fucking boring! **Hmmm... No... No... Aw yes! This one kicks **ASS!**"

I recognized the voice. Francis. He didn't come to bother me. Fuck no. He moved out of Dimmsdale years ago for a job on some old folk's farm. It had been ages since he stopped giving half a shit about us. No... what was to come was far more devious... and I hadn't known it yet as I was just taking a sip of my coffee...

Speed Metal. A sweeping of some awesome notes... and then...

"_**TIMMYYYY! TIMMY, LIVING A LIE! YYARRGHAGRYYAGHR! EEEHHH TIIMMYY!"**_

**DEAR FUCKING LORD. WHAT KIND OF RAT BASTARD PSYCHOTIC WOULD PLAY THAT SONG RIGHT NOW AT THIS MOMENT.**

"**...and the Lords of the Underworld! Darkness fills my heart with pain! And when girls start to sleep with girls... Beelzebub will rise agai-" **

"**WHAT IN HOLY GOD'S NAME DEMON SHIT IS THIS FUCKING CRAP!"**

…...it had been miles on the road before I even began to realize just how truly loud I shouted... and throwing the restaurant's coffee mug into their jukebox machine probably wasn't the best solution either... Francis had to pull me outsi- You know what! Fuck that shit! Just get me to Dimmsdale and get off this godforsaken road! Just give me a few more high speed hours to put this awful trip behind me...

…...and that's when I heard the sirens...

You evil bastard! This is your doing Lord! 'Beelzebub will rise again', alright... You better take care of me threw this, Lord, because if you don't... I'm **FUCKED!**

[The following is a copy of the police report and audio tape evidence filed by Officer Gary Butey.]

Officer: Gary Butey.

MARCH 15th – Subject was speeding down the freeway when I flashed my sirens. The subject then accelerated as I took chase. **FINALLY!** Someone who _understands _the psychology of dealing with a highway traffic cop! You're NORMAL speeder would just _panic _and immediately pull over to the side and start apologizing, _begging _for mercy-**BAH!** This is _wroooong... _it arouses contempt in my **BIG, FAT, ROUND** heart... The bastard made me chase him. I continued to follow. Subject then turned on his right blinker signal. This let me know that he was looking for a proper place to pull off and talk... I just hope he doesn't make me do a 180 degree turn at this speed. Subject did not slow down until he tried pulling off into a 25mph off-ramp at accelerations of up to 100mph. Subject's vehicle span several times in drift before coming to a complete stop at the end of the off ramp. I had braced for the G's and the fast heel-toe. Subject appeared flustered, and nervous. I approached the driver's seat window cautiously from the _rear..._ I asked the young man to roll down his window. The rest of the encounter I recorded on the following tape:

**OFFICER G. BUTEY:** Testing, testing... Ah-ha... Aha-ha-ha... *ahem* **_Hellooooo, it's MEEE!_** Officer **GARY **Butey... license and registration pleeeaaase?

**SUBJECT:** Sure! Sure! No problem, no problem whatsoever! Eh-heh-heh-heh... *gulp* What seems to be the trouble Officer?

**OFFICER G. BUTEY:** THAT'S OFFICER GARY **BUTEY **to _yooouuu... _Aha-ha... No trouble, no trouble at all... Let me just check these back at the- ***GAAASSSSP*!**

**SUBJECT: **What! What is it!

**OFFICER G. BUTEY:** Ohh... a-ha-ha-ha-heeeeh... I thought your vehicle was mooning me. Just a reflection, AHA-ha-HA-ha-ha...

**SUBJECT:** Oh, well, if that's all...

**OFFICER G. BUTEY:** **MOONING'S ILLEGAL IN THIS STATE, PAL! **Here's your ticket...

**SUBJECT:** Ticket!

**OFFICER G. BUTEY:** That's riiiiiiight... for _speeding_, **_weeving_**, **avoiding arrest** and mooning, HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Have a nice day, sir...

**SUBJECT:** But... but?

**OFFICER G. BUTEY:** _I DON'T TAKE _**_KINDLY _**_TO THAT KIND OF TALK, SON! _'Nother ticket...

**SUBJECT:** Two tickets? The pig was doing me on all fronts...

**OFFICER G. BUTEY:** I **AM**? Well, mhmhmhm, wouldn't want to make him a _liar_ now, would I? **ALRIGHT KID! OUT OF THE CAR!**

**SUBJECT:** B-Bu-*cough*... I mean... WHY?

**OFFICER G. BUTEY:** So I can search the car for evidence, **Nancy!**

**SUBJECT:** D-D-Do you h-have a s-search warrant?

**OFFICER G. BUTEY:** Noooooo, something **_BETTER_**...

**SUBJECT:** Wh-wh-wh-wh-what?

**OFFICER G. BUTEY:** "Probable cause"! AH-HAHAHAHAHAAAA! **Now step away from the car or I'll have you **_arrested_!

**SUBJECT:** ...I knew I was fucked...

**OFFICER G. BUTEY:** And STOP _narrating _to yourself... now, let's see what's in the truuuuunk, ooh-hoo-hoo-hoo... **_HA!_**

**SUBJECT:** …...?

**OFFICER G. BUTEY:** Hmmmm... _alright_, pinky-boy, looks like you're clean... Nothing in there but an empty pink suitcase...

**SUBJECT:** ...pink?

**OFFICER G. BUTEY:** Lovely theme you've got going on, but I must be on my way kiddo, so... ***GAAASSSSP*!**

**SUBJECT:** What? Did my car "moon" you again...?

**OFFICER G. BUTEY:** What's **_that _**in your hand, sonny?

**SUBJECT:** Huh? Oh, umm... a beer can. So wha-_A BEER CAN!_

**OFFICER G. BUTEY:** Oooh, yaaay Grandma! I can **arrest **him now!

**SUBJECT:** BUT-? BUT-? BUT-?

**OFFICER G. BUTEY:** **_WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT THAT KIND OF LANGUAGE! _**In the back seat, junior...

**SUBJECT:** Wait, what about my ca-?

**OFFICER G. BUTEY:** I'll be _TAKING _that beer too, thank you very **MUCH!** *Door slam* Hmph... you kids today, with your **_green _**beer cans and your **_pink _**hats... YOU MAKE ME SICK! I'm taking you to the LVPD. **_WHAM!_**STRAIGHT to jail! No phone call! No lawyer! **_They're gonna lock you up_ **and throw away the _key... _**_MUAHA-MUAHAHAHAHAHA!_** _*_ahem_* _Subject is now being taken in for rigorous questioning and a strip search! Subject is being charged with speeding, avoiding arrest, vagrancy, driving while under the influence of alcohol-

**SUBJECT:** But I'm not-

**OFFICER G. BUTEY:** **_AAAAANNND_** mooning a police officer. Any questions, ladies? _BEEEEEEEEEEP!_ Didn't think so... Care for Bob Dylan? _BAHAHAHAHAHA!_ **END!**

[The tape cuts out from there.]


	10. Time Is Tight

**Chapter 10 – Time Is Tight**

I felt raped.

How long now before that inevitable plummet? That dive into the infamous Las Vegas Penitentiary System. How long... and what the hell was I going to do?

"Ah-heh, ah-hehe... _Hellooo_, it's **meeeee**... The police officer who said _**SHUT UP**_ fifteen minutes ago!"

No sympathy from the devil; keep that in mind. Pay the ticket, or take the ride... I had no way out. The back seat was enclosing in upon me, and the pig was having a good chuckle about it...

"Breaker! Braker! 10-4! Police Officer in possession of suspect! Require IMMEDIATE backup... -Oh,, that's a 9er-9er, Roger. **WHO'S ROGER!?** Breaker, breaker back to me... approaching Baker State Penitentiary. OVERANDOUT!"

There was nowhere to turn now...

This was it...

"OOHH-WISH! Wish-wish! Wish! Wish! **Wish!** _Wish! __**Wish! **_**Wish.** _**WIISSHH!**_ IS THAT _ALL _YOU _**EVER **_TALK ABOUT!? Well wishy-washy-wishy _all you want_ _**fairy boy**_ (_they're gonna __**love **__the __**pink **__hat by the _way) but **wishes don't come true in the REEEAAAL WOORRLD!** _**AH-HAHAHAHAHA! **_AHH-HA! AHH-HA!AHH-HA! _**Eeeeh!**_"

No... wait... this can't **possibly **be **fucking happening!?** I only came to Vegas to do a _goddamn __**story!**_

But no... this was not the place for a showdown...

This was Buttfuck County...

Wait... I don't believe it... oh **GOD**...

"...sweet Jesus it's _him_..."

The pig didn't even notice him... Norville... Norville Fucking Rogers...

"OFFICER GARY BOOTY!"

"_**IT'S **__**BUTEY**__**!**_ But you have my attention~..."

"THAT GUY! RIGHT THERE! _CRIMINAL SUSPECT! __**CRIMINAL SUSPECT!**_"

"_**WHAT**__**!?**_ Do you think I'm **blind** as well as PANTSLESS! That right there _**son**_, is a _veteran_... a man who FOUGHT FOR OUR COUNTRY when I was NAI-yennnnn. And calling him a '_criminal suspect_' JUST LANDED YOU FIFTEEN TO _LIFE!_"

"But-!"

"AAHH-HAHAHAHA! You lose~ AH-HAHAHAHAAHAHAAAA!"

"He murdered **three innocent people!**"

"_Lies_~... AH-HAHAHA!"

"BUT HE-"

"**YOU CAN'T DISTRACT OFFICER GARY **_**BUTEY **_**WHEN HE'S IN THE LINE OF DUTY JACKASS! **You're going to jaaiiil~ AND THAT'S ALL THERE IS TO IT! ***Pant, pant pant pant*** *_**ksh**_* Hello... it's _me_... Officer Gary Butey. Where's that _baaaackuuuuuupp?_"

"...he's a hippie?"

The car screeched to a halt. I damn near broke my front teeth on the glass.

"_**THAT'S IT!**_ I can only take SO MUCH! I am going to walk out there and _**PROVE TO YOU**_ that Norville FUCKING Rogers-(_that's right _kiddies, Shaggy's middle name is a **no-no **word. **AH-HA!**)-is an upstanding CARTOON CITIZEN _like myself~..._"

He got out of the car. This pig was fucking NUTS! Dear God, he's walking _without his legs_... I could hear the two of them talking as I pressed my ear to the door...

"HELLO! It's meee-I mean-! At ease, soldier! You're not under arrest."

"Scoob... Scoob, you did it! I don't know how but you did it! You led me to a cop! _Ha-ha-ha_... LIKE, I'M SAVED!"

"That's cor-RECT Mr. Rogers! My name is Office Gary Butey and might I say it is of the utmost pleasure to meet you, ah-haaaa... Can I give you a lift to the nearest town?"

"LIKE, _HAHAHAHAHA_, YOU HAVE NO IDEA, MAN! One minute ago I was in a road-side diner chomping on a burger, BIG and **juicy**! Next thing I know, I'm out in the middle of Nowhere! "

"Well now you're in good hands fine veteran, and might I SAY Mr. Rogers, that is one magnificent replica of the recently **stolen **Egyptian slab of King Ramses, the Second you're holding!"

"Ah-ha... yeah... yeah, umm, actually... ha-ha, maybe it's so good... we could give it back to the museum to take the place of the real one until it's, like, ha-ha recovered man..."

"MODEST **AND** GENEROUS! Oh, abso-LUTELY Mr. Rogers, what a **brilliant** ideeaa!"

It was then that he caught my eye...

"W-w-w-w-w-WAIT A MINUTE MAN... I **can't **get into that car..."

"WHAT? What do you meeeaaan you _can't get into that car? _I already told you I'm not gonna arrest you... unless you've done something for me to arrest you FOR! In which case you wouldn't WANT to get CAUGHT! Oh, I caught you Norville Rogers... AH-HAHAHAHA, just kidding~. AH-HAHAHAHA! Let's get to home! I can't **BELIIEEVE** that **beaver mouth** called you a hippie!"

"A hi- alright... THAT, LIKE, DOES IT MAN! I'm tired of the whole _hippie__** stereotype!**_ **This was just the style then!** And if it wasn't for SCOOBY'S, LIKE, FUCKING SAKE I'd still be smoking pot now! I've been clean for years! THE JOKE'S FREAKIN' OVER! FUCKING ZOINKS, MAN!"

"POT! That... my friend... is a FELONY in **THIS **state! _**Can't you read the sign?**_"

Indeed... we had been parked next to an anti-marijuana billboard. The LVPD resurrected it a few years back based on the original one from the 70's when the law had been reinstated. 20 years for possession. Selling. Life.

"Ha-ha... I just SAID-"

"_**HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM PAL!**_ A quick **cavity **search should clear THIS up! Ah-haaa... _snap_..."

The pig slammed him against the car door. The force pushed me back and a miracle happened... hitting the other car door it swung open... I was liberated. I had one chance... make it count... The sound of a small baggie hitting the ground and I knew matters just got worse...

"SEE! Clean... well, I guess we can just-GREAT GRANDMA'S ASHES, WHAT'S THIIIISSSS! IIII TRUSTED YOOOUUU! You were like an _idol _to me... AND NOW? _WAAHHAAAAHAAAHAAAAAA_! Alright, into the slammer you go. AH-HA-HA-HA!"

"BUT-! **BUT-!** _**I'VE GOT TO RETURN THE SLA-!**_"

"**AND THE LANGUAGE! **Oh, you're screwed hippie... AH-HAHAHAHAHA! AH-HA! AH-HA! AH-HA!"

They didn't seem to notice me behind the billboard pole as they drove off... soon, miles down the road... safe to come out... best I head the other way. They had driven into a fog...

This was becoming a mixed blessing... I had evaded the most ultimate of punishments, and yet... I'm all the way out here in the middle of Nowhere, and what's worse, goddamn bugs everywhere! No... couldn't stop here. This is _locust _country.

Shaggy said something about being at a diner earlier... with any luck, it wasn't too far on down this road...

_**FIFTEEN FUCKING MILES!**_ How the fuck did that old man get out this far! I mean _COME ON! _Who's **ever **heard of _anyone _walking FIFTEEN FUCKING MILES ON FOOT TO ANYWHERE! But nonetheless, I found it...

BURGERS: REALLY CHEAP! - 2 mi.

"AW COME ON! _Two more miles!_"

How the fuck **did **Shaggy make it this far out on foot!? Nevertheless... it would all be worth it soon just to get one moment... a break from this nightmare of a trip.

The inside smelled strongly of pork and french fries... the air conditioning cooled off my hair. It was a true 1950's-esque diner. A man could breathe in here... a man could relax in here. I could hardly wait to sit down to a nice tasty burger.

There was another man as well. A hefty guy in a gray suit... and his burger looked _AMAZING!_ Soon, I too would have an amazing burger... to put in my mouth! And it will be _delici_-

"Heh heh, you ok there, son?"

The owner caught me off guard. I could tell the fat man was shook up as we-

"Excuse me, son, but I will ask you to **not **insult my custo-!"

"_Fat!_ Why I never!"

"Oh-! _**Shit!**_ I'm sorry! I got... I, -uh, got distracted! By... uh, um... the.. FINE COOKING of this establishment! It's been a long day and... heh heh, I'm just starving is all!" I quickly apologized to them both... no sense fucking up now, I thought. It'll arouse suspicion of how I got here... the old man grumbled at me and went back to his meal. The owner scoffed it off.

"Well then! _Ho-ho-ho!_ Welcome! Welcome to _Jean Bonne's!_ Home of the **best-looking**, JUICIEST burgers in all of Nowhere! I'm **Jean Bonne!** What's your pleasure?"

"BUR-!"

"_**Excuse **_me, but may I-?"

"Go right ahead! You remember, behind the door."

The geezer cut me off! Oh, **fuck **that guy! You know what, it was then that I thought, 'Fuck you,fatty! Ha! Can't stop me when I KNOW I'm thinkin' it, can ya! Ha! Fuck you!'

"You gonna order something, sir? Or are you just gonna keep glaring at my customer..."

Oh. "Shit. My apologies..."

"It's alright, kiddo! Hey, you wanna know a little fun fact? My name's _French_. Well, I'm not, but it has a **nice sound!** Jean Bonne! Jean _Bonne!_ _Jean Bonne! _**Jean **_Bonne!_"

"Heheh... _yeeeaaahh_, so, umm... I'd like to have a burger, sir... big and _juicy._"

"One burger **big **and _juicy!_ Be back in a jiffy, sir!"

At last... solitude. _Jim Bean, _or whatever his name was, went back into the kitchen and the diner was quiet again. Just Booker T. & the MG's playing on the jukebox. He wasn't such a bad guy after all. Kind of a... portly fella... but, nonetheless, a good man. I had felt foolish for my outbursts earlier... things needed to calm down now.

He returned momentarily to clean the counters. Just a good man, trying to maintain an honest business. The very symbol... of the American Dre-is he stealing the fat guy's suitcase? What the fuck? Wait! He is stealing the fat guy's suitcase!

"Uhh..."

He froze. He smiled. "...I'll hold it til he gets back..."

A kind nod and he was gone again...

No doubt just good friends with the fellow, I'm sure..

Certainly...

...John Bean just fucking stole that fat guy's suitcase... Ok! Relax! This is NOT the time to panic! Ride it out, Timmy... Just ride it out. You'll soon be back at the car and getting the **fuck **outta-**He came back.**

"Ho-ho-ho! Hope ya like it, kiddo!"

My burger... it WAS big and juicy!

"You have no idea how much I've needed this, sir! Thank you!"

"Haha! My pleasure!"

All my burger needed now was some ketchup and then the chow-down can begi-

"IT'S **PEOPLE! **_The hamburgers are __**people,**__ Timmy! _Ha-ha! Naaahhhh, just kidding! HI TIMMY! **I'm delicious!**"

...that did not just happen...

...my burger did not just talk to me...

I slammed the bun back down on the patty and aroused suspicion from the owner...

"Is there anything wrong?"

"NO SIR! **Absolutely not!** I mean, I just... thought your patties looked a little _green_ but it's just my **eyes **sir... Weary from the walk... they look... ***gulp*** delicious..."

"Well, I should hope so! It's my wife's special! A **HEAD** of Beef! Ooh-ha! Ooh-ha! Ooh-ha-ha-ha-ha!"

He laughed all the way into the kitchen. What was going on? Was I in mortal peril over a fucking **cheeseburger!?** No... I had much bigger problems right now... I re-examined the burger once more... Clearly, I was having one of those 'acid flashbacks' the stupid high school videos yapped on about... Clearly... I did not pay very good attention in school. But this wasn't school, dammit! This... **was lunch!**

I sank my teeth into the burger. Never... has a burger tasted so good. These really ARE the best-looking, juiciest burgers in all of Nowhere! This was **sooo **worth the-wait a minute...

...oh, fuck me...

"I see you're done eating that burger, son..."

"..."

"Well, here's **another.** On the house."

"...that's... mighty neighborly..."

"And when you're done, my wife would **love** to meet you..."

"O-Of course..."

He left again... how could I forget the money. I'm in enough debt as it is, and now this! There was no choice but to dine and da-

"Ho-ho-ho! Looks like you're already done with that other burger! Hope you liked your meal, kiddo! Now what'll it be? Cash or card?"

"Uh-uh-ermm... can you give me just a moment to make a phone call to my bank?"

"Certainly! **Phone's behind the door...**"

"Thank you..."

I rushed through the door. Caution to the wind, now. I examined my surroundings... I did not anticipate stairs. When I came to moments later, I saw the phone on the wall. I had to revel in this momentous occasion! I had to find Eddy... Just enough change in my pocket for one phone call. Make it count...

"...You've reached the man with the **law **in his hands, _Eddy McG-_"

_**"Cut the crap you midget bastard! I'm in trouble!"**_

"...Timmy? You're alive? DUDE, WHAT THE FUCK! What did I say about calling me a midg-"

"Shut **UP!** Short stuff! You fucking left me **high and dry** at the Hotel with a goddamn $3,000 bill! And then I got arrested by this satanic cop before I could get away!"

"Timmy! Wait! Slow down! I thought you were de-"

"This bastard was the worst, you asshole! He didn't wear pants! Do you hear me! NO FUCKING PA-"

"-**DUDE!** I **DO NOT** need to hear about some flasher cop before my FUCKING exams! What the HELL is the matter with you?! Five minutes ago I thought you had died or had gotten injured by the fucking accident!"

"...accident?"

"Yeah! It's all over the news! Apparently, right there in the middle of fucking Vegas two 600 foot replicas of what looked like characters from that stupid fighting game with the Joes or **whatever-**"

"...Strong Johns?"

"YEAH! That stupid fucking game! Point is, for two minutes they started duking it the fuck out! Wrecking Vegas like nobodies **business!** They even crashed through our part of the hotel. I thought you fucking **DIED **man!"

"Jesus Christ..."

"Yeah... and now I reiterate... what... the FUCK... DID I SAY... ABOUT CALLING ME... A MOTHERFUCKING-!"

"Cut the crap, you damn Canadian, I'm still in trouble here!"

"What the hell are you-?"

"My parents took a fucking third honeymoon and _cut me off_ in the process! I haven't finished that fucking story! Without funds we can't stay in another fucking hotel! Everything we had in the hotel has been utterly DESTROYED! We'll **both **get F's and that will completely _kill_ my Financial Aid! I will fucking cripple your ass for bailing out on me you sonuvabitch if it's the last thing I-"

"You never read the telegram, did you..."

"Telegr-" I had remembered then the envelope still within the inside pocket of my jacket. "Yeah... I have it here, but..."

"You never fucking opened it, did you..."

"I..."

"We watched the whole movie two fucking nights ago and you never thought to open it when you got it..."

"It's just-"

"Dammit, Timmy! How many goddamn times do I have to tell you! When I mail you shit, that means it's fucking BUSINESS! You know I don't trust sensitive information over phone or email!"

"Wait, why didn't you just fucking call me?"

"Why didn't YOU call ME!"

It was then that I realized... I had left my cell phone somewhere behind in the vagrant mess of the hotel... which was now utterly destroyed... **Goddammit...**

"Look... let me just look over the telegram..."

"Please, _take your time..._"

**URGENT SPEED MESSAGE**

TIMMY TURNER

SOUNDPROOF SUITE 1850

BINION'S HORSESHOE HOTEL

CALL ME AT ONCE REPEAT AT ONCE WE HAVE A NEW ASSIGNMENT BEGINNING TOMORROW YEAH I SAW YOUR DUMB ASS PASSED OUT AND NOT A SINGLE REPORT WRITTEN SO I CAME BACK TO CONVINCE A.J. TO LET US CHANGE THE ASSIGNMENT ALSO VEGAS DON'T LEAVE STOP THE NATIONAL CONFERENCE OF COLLEGE PROFESSORS INVITES YOU TO THEIR LECTURE ON DANGEROUS NARCOTICS AND DRUGS AT THE BELLAGIO HOTEL STOP A J SAID HE WANTED AT LEAST 50 THOUSAND WORDS STOP NEEDED BIGGER BUDGET SO THOUGHT AHEAD AND HACKED A BANK ACCOUNT STOP RESERVATIONS AT THE FLAMINGO HAVE BEEN MADE STOP A CREDIT CARD HAS BEEN INCLUDED FOR YOU STOP EVERYTHING IS ARRANGED CALL IMMEDIATELY FOR DETAILS URGENT REPEAT URGENT STOP

EDDY, FUTURE ATTORNEY AT LAW

"Oh shit..."

"_**STOP!**_ Geez, didn't you hear me the FIRST time? When I thought that you had died, I didn't know what I was gonna do... but it turns out you're _alive_... so I reiterate... what... did I _**fucking**_ say... about calling me..."

"EDDY! **Relax!** I'm totally messing with ya! I was at the Flamingo all along! I fucking **GOT** your ass! I knew I'd rile you up if I said '_midget_', haha! Heheh... hmmm..."

"...just get the fuck back to Vegas... I'll see you at the Hotel, I'm taking a plane."

"A _**PLANE!?**_"

"I told you in the letter, I nailed some poor sap who wanted to donate to some Dimmsdale charity, and he's fucking LOADED!"

"Really..."

I read the name on the card... Well, I thought. This is the way the world works. All energy flows according to the Great Olmec. What a fool I was to defy him. He knew. He knew all along. It was He who knew the secrets behind each of the treasures in his Temple, and it was He who sent that satanic cop. I had run far enough, and he nailed me... It was He who must've manifested Shaggy for my own sake... It was He who sent those very strong Johns and cleared my debt. My parents might've screwed me over, but maybe this little binge of familial rivalry **might **_just_ get their attention... and respect...

"Well then... I've got a burger to pay for... I'll see you in Vegas."

"And don't trash the fucking car..."

"...will do..."

He hung up. He seemed vaguely annoyed, but that hardly mattered now. I was going back to Vegas. I had no choice. All was quiet again until I turned around.

"Howdy, son! Ho-ho, while you're down here, my wife would _love_ to meet you..."

"Oh, wonderful! Um, where is she...?"

"Why, in the next room of course!"

I saw her silhouetted figure on the walls behind her. And next to her on the table... oh **fuck**, it's the fat guy... or... _part_ _of him_...

"Actually, can I just pay and head out?"

"Now, now, manners son! You can't keep a good lady like this waiting! _She's got something to show ya..._"

"...you don't say..." No avoiding it now... into the threshold... and may the Mayan Guards have mercy on my soul...

...I looked pretty damn good for a cheeseburger.

"Oh-ho! Well glad ya like it son! We made it especially for you! Thought it'd cheer you up from your weary travels."

"You mean... I can _eat_ it?"

"Oh, I just **love** when our customer's wanna eat my work, and this is the best part! Let's dig in!" said the Misses. I relaxed. Suddenly, everything was going right; I was finally getting the breaks. After another hefty meal, the wife asked me where I was headed.

"Las Vegas," I said.

She smiled. "A wonderful town, that Vegas. You'll have good luck there; you're the type."

"I know," I said. "I'm a Triple Scorpio."

She seemed pleased. "That's a fine combination," she said. "You can't lose!"

I laughed. "Don't worry," I said. "I'm actually going to the National Conference of College Professors. Just another good Nicktoon like yourselves!"

Their smiles disappeared. The owner then spoke up.

"Right, well, glad you liked the meal, son! Now, follow me and we'll get this paid for... Ho-ho, that's a nice name ya got there, sir!"

"Thank you very much..."

"Kinda rolls **right** off the tongue, doesn't it? _Dinkleburg!_ Haha! It ain't no _Jjjjean _**Bonne** but I like it just as much! Ho-ho, I like you young man!"

"Thanks sir, you have a fine establishment! Say, I never did get to ask what kind of meat was on my burger? It didn't taste like normal beef?"

"That's cause our diner likes to do things a little differently! That gentleman you saw earlier provides the meat for our business! He's been funding my wife's artwork for years now! Shame he couldn't join us for dinner. Hope it was appetizing, ho-ho-ho-ho! "

"What's your secret?"

"Haha, I can tell you're a curious one, ain't ya? Alright, I'll tell ya... The secret ingredient that we ground up and use... is... _pork_..."


End file.
